#stillwater

Matt Damon strives to exonerate his daughter in the first trailer for Tom McCarthy’s Stillwater.

Jodie Turner-Smith in Gucci

Breathe…

Flashlight [Part 1 of ??]

[Inspired by the song “Flashlight” by Hailee Steinfeld, Vi’s Voice in Arcane]

WARNING: Spoilers ahead for the series. This isn’t quite a fanfic, just a retelling of events from Vi’s PoV with a bit of spice on my behalf.

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It was another one of those days, I beat up someone and, in return, the guards kicked the shit out of me before letting me “rest” in that lonely stone box, bleeding, bruised. I recall how shallow my breath felt in those moments, how every rib on my torso screamed at me as I dragged my body to a dark corner, far from the bars. A stray dog beaten to a pulp…that was me…

“Why am I still trying?” I thought, sulking on the pain that ran through my body. Every bruise, either from the heavy wooden cane of the warden or the electric stings of those fucking teasers. “Even if I beat each one of those goons, they won’t speak of him…of…her….” the vile in my mouth, bitter. I sunk in the silence of my cell, only me this time in that hell hole. The thought of “her”, alone with that demon of a man, that rat that killed Vander without a second thought. I was waiting to meet him here, to get my hands on him. For Mylo, for Claggor…for Vander…for “her”: My Powder…my little sister…

That night in the rain, after the bomb, after Vander risked everything to save me I just…let that promise slide. But I swore I was going to make it up to both…

“Right…” I whispered, as numb as my cheek was, I smirked, I surely did. The memory of Powder’s eyes locked on me from a few days before everything went to fuck. The girl I swore not only to Vander, but to our parents, I would protect with every piece of my being. My little flashlight…the only thing letting me endure another night in this place.

“When tomorrow comes…” a weak sigh left my exhausted body as I laid on that wall. Strength slowly leaving me, that adrenaline going down the drain to let me sleep. Compared to this…Vander’s beds and hammock seemed like a luxury. It…kinda was…

The small room, the basement the four of us lived in at “The Last Drop” wasn’t big or fancy as the houses we robbed topside, but was the closest thing Powder and I had to a home on the Undercity. “A sweet life…” another half minded whisper left my lips before I fell asleep.

Those sweet memories of her, being my only company…

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A couple of months after my last beating, and I still was on my own on that hell box, other inmates came and went, but the stupid ass of a warden found out he had to deal the least with me if I had no one to fight with, it made his job easier. At least, some of the other inmates got me stuff to make a “homemade” tattoo machine -they did mostly out of fear, they were fully aware of my reputation- that’s how I started measuring time, each tattoo cured in 2 or 3 months. And I already had the first part of my arm healed. The lines were a bit shaky, but the coloring looked nice.

The tatts got better as I got the hand out of the machine, a mirror also helped -got it from a guard who came to “check on me”. They started bluffing, so I punched them and took the mirror for myself-. My arms, took almost a year to heal -part of my upper arm almost got infected due to a nail I got stuck in, fortunately, they brought a nurse to get that stitched. She also gave me a bottle of gel to get my tatt hydrated, alongside the stitch-. My neck took a bit of trial and error, the pain in that zone made it way more sensible than I expected, it took 3 months to heal and I swore I wouldn’t tattoo my neck again, that was hell! How my back came to be is a bit of a haze…maybe took another year. I don’t recall a lot of it, since it was the time most of Silco’s henchmen arrived, mostly accused to save his boss’s ass. Shitty coward…still, I took them on, getting small answers, but not the ones I searched for.

“Powder?! Tch! You’re crazier than the guards say. Fuck off, Pink!”

One of many growls I got from those bastards.

Obviously, as fast as I got out of solitary confinement, I was brought back.

“Pink…” I couldn’t put a finger on it, but something about the name pissed me off more than the actual insult. I got why they called me that, it was kind of obvious but…I wanted them to remember my name, so if they got out before I did, they could tell that motherfucker who the hell was hunting him: Vi, Vander’s legacy!

The little tattoo on my cheek healed in a month, and from that moment on, those fuckers, guards or inmates, knew who they were dealing with!

Still, those nights in the dark made my head spin. Beaten up or not, the flashes of Powder’s smile kept me going. A light in the night…

I just hoped she was ok…

After everything I did…

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Another day, another group of inmates came to this hell hole. After a couple of months in my stone box, I was out, at the cafeteria eating on my own, watching the new unfortunate idiots come. Some were everyday criminals, they maybe stole from topside and got caught in the process, maybe they disrespected a high class snob who threw his best card to the table “I’m gonna make the enforcers arrest you” or shit like that. Average naughty kids in detention, except for the hulking brute in the middle. I stood up and furrowed my brows. I knew him.

Bald, tattooed from head to toe, with that ring in his nose. He was the goon I kicked the shit out off that night with Vander’s gauntlets. But, he didn’t look as strong as that night. He was hunched over, he seemed…frail…somehow. Still, I could feel my blood boil. Pitty that fence was between us, because I would have smashed that ugly face of his against the table. At the same time, I felt the overwhelming gaze of the guards, ready to knock me down…as if! I’m not that dumb though.

I sat back and waited…

I knew he would give me what I wanted, after 5 years in Stillwater. I was probably looking at the best shot I had to know about my sister, my little flashlight.

Powder…

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PART 2 :

Flashlight [Part 2 of ??]